One Day
by sunkissedvampire
Summary: One day, Emily Bright runs into three different men who all claim to be the same and she listens to his tale.


Author's Note: Alright you guys, this is my first attempt at a short Doctor Who story. Forgive me if I get something wrong because I had no idea how complex the story line is for this show is until I actually started to write. Damn. Ha, anyways. This is meant to be a three shot, maybe more depending on how you guys like this character. She will never be in the actual plot of the show. Her existence will only ever be the inbetween of companions. So you don't have to worry about her being an intruder or ruining you OTP. With that in mind, I humbly introduce you to "One Day".

* * *

There have always been certain things that grabbed my attention: old things, shiny things, things covered in rust and dust that hinted at stories and secrets to share. As a child I dreamt of adventures, of treasure hunts, and dusty attics. There was just something so alluring about the unknown…

It was that exact calling that led me to my death.

In July of 1999 I drowned in the lake by my house. It had been a blistering hot day in my town, waves had been rising from the ground and flickering in the air and cicadas had droned on from the trees. Their buzzing had always made me feel sick to my stomach. Now I understand why. I was told, by some faceless person who's name I can no longer recall, that there was a treasure down by the lake. It used to belong to a mermaid who had fallen in love with an old sailor. Their love was so strong that when the man could no longer stand the harsh weathering of the seas, he carried her home in a tub of water, and lowered her into the very same lake. She didn't live long, she was not used to the fresh water, and when she passed away her body disappeared leaving nothing but a shimmering stone in her place. The sailor locked it away within a box and threw it into the lake.

At the time I was only five years old, but that was enough time for me to find the hole in the fence in my backyard, stumble down to the lake, find a rather nice looking perch, and wait for the stone to magically appear. I waited ten minutes.

I remember looking over the lake, wondering where a box would most likely be if so much time had passed. Would it be at the bottom? Maybe in the little cave on the other side sunken half below the water? Maybe someone had already found it?

At the time, the realization that dinner would be on the table in less than an hour was more important than my safety. I traveled over to the other side of the lake, crawling under low hanging branches, and giggling when my red rain boots squished in the mud.

The water came up to my chin. It was hard for me to wade through the murky liquid while fighting through the instinctual fear that I could possibly drown. The realization that I should really learn how to swim didn't hit me until after the event and even then it wasn't quite as sarcastic. I kept going, you see, because at the end of that tunnel there was a blue flickering light. And there was a voice.

An old voice sang to me, it was a light beautiful voice, but so utterly ancient.

The cave swallowed me up. Grass and dirt reached over my head and blocked out any sunlight that may have filtered in. The water sloshed up against the sides of the burrow, mixing about dirt and debris, and splashed up into my mouth and nose. But the only thing that mattered to me was the source of the blue light that spilled out from the back of the burrow and illuminated the dark space. It was singing to me and I needed to get a better look. I was sure that this was the mermaid, reaching out for her prince. It was my job to help.

My memory gets a little bit blurry after that, but I remember reaching the stone, holding it in my hands and feeling like it was a piece of the night sky. It was so mesmerizing that I didn't pay attention to the rather obvious visitor that snuck up behind me. I remembering hearing a deep reverberating growl, yellow eyes, scales, and then nothing but the blackness of unconsciousness.

After that there was pain in my chest, a burning in my lungs, and the feel of water rushing up my throat and out of my mouth and nose. No one knows how I managed to escape the alligator but I was lucky to have come out in one piece. But no one was fooled that day, while people crowded around me on the shore of that lake, my heart had stopped beating.

I was never quite the same after the incident. I never found the stone again, even when I worked up the nerve to climb back into that little cave, but its radiant beauty that reminded me of the night sky never left my mind. All of a sudden the glimmering stones in the sky had so much more allure. I once asked my mother if it was strange that the stars seemed to boost my confidence. She never answered.

It was this reason that I dedicated my life to stories. To finding them, writing them down, and discovering more. It was this reason that I found myself working at a thrift shop. And it was this reason that I found myself face to face with a very peculiar man who seemed a little too interested in an old leather coat…

* * *

My day that morning had started off like any other; in fact, it was quite light in comparison to others. The lack of the heavy load I was used to carrying may have had something to do with college break…I felt very positive about the bright new day and the temptation to call up some old friends after work was very enticing, maybe we could catch up at the old hookah lounge we used to waste hours of our lives sitting in and laughing our asses off at nonsense things. Hell, I didn't care what I did that night; all I was excited about was not having to do homework.

I had been sitting amongst a stack of old clothes in the back room, folding them and organizing them into neat piles to be steamed and then hung on the racks out front, when I was hit with the realization that Christmas was in less than a week. My heart had stuttered and the green shirt I had been admiring dropped to my lap. At that point I hadn't even started shopping. I was so excited to be free of school that the thought had completely escaped me and now the heavy feeling was back again. Yes, my friends, you guessed it, that feeling was something we adults like to call responsibility.

Maybe the old hookah lounge wasn't such a good idea after all, I would have to save money for the next couple of days of shopping, not to mention food… I groaned and threw a stack of bellbottom jeans into the air.

"What did I tell you about throwing merchandise?" An angry voice shouted from somewhere down the aisles of abandoned items that would soon be moved out front.

I scrambled to pick up the jeans and refold them before my manager made his way back to my position. Honestly, sometimes I felt like I belonged in an action movie with the amount of adrenalin I pumped through my veins daily. The little things had me going.

Anyways, I was still feeling somewhat inspired to reconnect with my old pals, and a couple bucks to smoke a hookah didn't seem that important. It could be a Christmas present to them as well as myself. So I decided I had to go. It was an obligation really.

You see what kind of person I am?

I was a lazy, procrastinating, bum of a college student who still lived with her family. I had little skill with money and the only thing that ever seemed to matter to me was having a good time. But at least I was loyal…for the most part. I admit that I've had my fair share of screw ups but I always tried to right my wrongs. There was this one time when my best friend and I were fighting and I went to a party and…well, it doesn't really matter, back to the story.

I pulled a skittle from the bag I was keeping in my sweater pocket and stood, moving over to a rack full of clothes ready to be hung out front. The fruity candy found its way to my mouth all throughout my shift and even while I was out front I continued to sneak them. It was one of the few ways I kept myself from dying of boredom. The thrift shop was an interesting place to work, I always found curious things that I could ponder over and play with, but the average retail work was horrendous. My previous job at the time had been as a waitress in a busy restaurant and while it had been stressful and caused me to more than once lock myself away in the manager's office to vent and cry in frustration, it had been quick paced and lively. Never boring. A person could only stock the same shelves so many times before it became routine and once it became routine your body could pretty much do it on its own. There was no need for the brain. That was around when my boredom struck with such force that my eyes physically watered.

I wiped at my eyes and glanced around the store, hoping that no one had noticed, and instead spotted an older gentleman who looked to be caught between two leather jackets. I chuckled and made my way over to his isle, I had always enjoyed helping guys pick out there clothing, the majority of men always seemed so clueless when it came to fashion. Women tended to be a bit more picky about what they wore and it was always more difficult to help them. I wiped at my eyes once more, my fingers came away smudged with eyeliner, and rubbed them off on my jeans. That's what I got for being a cheap ass and buying whatever makeup I could find at Wal-Mart.

The man was older, probably in his forties, and had short brown hair. I remember him because he had such animated features like even the simple act of deciding between the two articles of clothing was life changing and exciting. I don't know, to him it might very well have been. But his big blue eyes also held a loneliness that seemed consuming and I could imagine him constantly struggling to stay afloat. My eyebrows scrunched together as I wondered when exactly I had become so deep. It wasn't completely out of character for me; however, never had I thought so deeply about someone I hadn't even spoken to yet. It was starting to get a little too cliché for my taste.

"Need any help?" I asked casually. I slid my hands into my jean pockets and watched as the man looked up at me, startled, and a smile grew on his face.

"Hello, I just can't seem to decide which one I prefer. My last jacket was destroyed…"he trailed off and held the two at arm's length to examine them side by side. "It's very important, you see." His brows scrunched together and he seemed to be mouthing words to himself.

"Well, what are you looking for? A nice jacket that'll impress your friends or a sturdy one that's good for adventuring?" I reached for the one he held closest to me and took it from him, holding it up in front of myself, and examined it.

"I would prefer both, but I feel adventuring is the more important bit of it," he responded absently. He was watching me while I twisted the article around, narrowed my eyes at a dull patch in the leather, and looked at the label inside the collar.

"This one looks like it has already been through a few adventures of its own." I gestured for the other one and he handed it over almost reluctantly and I fought down the giggle that wanted to squirm its way out of my throat. There was just something about the way he acted that I found so amusing. He seemed to notice the smile that threatened to split my face and ruin whatever professional façade I had, and he smiled back. "This one wouldn't last you long, it's made of vinyl, it would rip and wear out pretty quickly," I put the cheaper of the two back on the rack and held out the more worn of the two. "This one may be a bit roughed up but it will last you longer, besides, it'll give you more character."

"I like character," the man agreed excitedly and took the jacket from my hands.

I cashed him out quickly, strangely enough he seemed to ponder over the money for a while before handing me a twenty dollar bill, and once again I found myself grinning. He kind of reminded me of my dad, like he was so spaced out thinking about god only knows what, and he was too deep in thought to pay attention to what he was doing. He paused for a second, after I had bagged his new jacket and slid it over the counter to him, and looked up at me curiously.

"Are there any good restaurants around here?"

It wasn't that strange for a customer to ask about the general area so I thought nothing of it, "Well, what kind of food are you looking for? There are plenty of different kinds…"

"In all honesty I just want some really good chips," he said. He picked the bag up, dumped the jacket out and shrugged into it, leaving the bag to sit dejectedly on the counter.

"Chips? Oh, you mean French fries!" Up until that moment his accent had gone completely unnoticed by me. I never said I was very observant. The only place in the area that had amazing French fries was, well, Frenchy's. It was an amazing seafood restaurant that was sandwiched between two other restaurants on the pier about a mile from the thrift shop. At the thought of their food my stomach instantly growled, like a rabid dog gnawing on its own chain. I grimaced which caused the man to look at me with concern. "Alright, here's the deal, I will tell you where you can get the most amazing chips of your life, but I have to come with."

"By all means! The more the merrier!" He spread his hands out and laughed as I ran to tell my manager I was taking my lunch break. Susan was working the floor and I was pretty sure the veteran retailer could handle the unbelievably slow pace on her own. It didn't occur to me at the time that I was running away with a stranger. To think that even at that age I was disobeying my mother! I wasn't too worried about it though, the street we would be taking was packed with hundreds of shops and therefore their shoppers, and it was still morning so there was plenty of light and no where he could drag me off to if he turned out to be an ax murderer. I claimed to be a good sense of character and I felt that that man had not a single bad bone in his body, maybe a few troubled ones, but nothing sinister or evil. If there was one thing I learned throughout my life it was that a person should never jump to conclusions and listen to their paranoia. For as long as I could remember I had been talking to every person I met and I had discovered that very few people in the world were truly evil and that even fewer had ever acted on their urges. Now don't take this as invitation to go throwing yourself at every mysterious figure you run into, I'm just saying that not everyone is what they seem like and it is okay to be open to others, just be weary.

So at some point as we were walking down the sidewalk in a strangely comfortable silence I realized that I had yet to catch his name. I voiced this realization and he had smiled in that kind yet sad way I had noticed he did, and had responded with quite an unusual title.

"They just call me The Doctor."

I remember giving him a weird look, like he had just told me he was flasher (but only on the week days), and he had laughed outright at my expression. "Who's they and why do they call you 'The Doctor'?"

"Everyone," he answered, "and because that's how I introduce myself."

"Wait a second, you can't just choose your own codename, that's not how it works," I said. I lifted my hands in front of me as the universal sign for 'stop what you are doing right now because this lady needs to reevaluate the situation so she can understand' and looked him dead in the eye. "What's your real name?"

"Nah, you wouldn't be able to pronounce it, it's very foreign."

"Uh huh," I snorted. "So I'll just call you Doc -".

"No, you most certainly will not," he interrupted, appalled.

"I most certainly will now after that reaction!" I laughed at his expression, somewhere between a pout and a scowl, and nearly tripped over someone's small dog who had happened to stray further across the sidewalk while their owner talked to a shop owner. My foot caught on the leash and the little fluff ball yelped in surprise. The owner's reaction was instantaneous. They swung around with the swiftness of a viper and I had only a few short seconds to realize it was a rather prudish looking old lady before the little dog started yapping up a storm. "I am so sorry!" I yelped and was pulled away by the strange man who called himself The Doctor. He laughed at me.

We soon reached the restaurant, a casual colorful place, where the servers wondered around in tie-dyes and denim shorts and the music that spilled from the speakers was tropical and relaxing. I led him over to the outdoor seating which was in front of the restaurant to allow a view of the water where we grabbed a table right next to the railing. The orange umbrella that protruded from the center of the table blocked out the noonday sun and allowed us to take in the blue sky, teal colored water, and the other passersby. I took my sweater off and threw it over the back of my chair, careful of the candy still tucked away in the pocket carefully.

"Shouldn't we see the hostess first?" The Doctor asked curiously, he glanced over at the entrance of the restaurant across the way where a girl stood behind a stand watching them with creased brows.

"Nah, she saw us sit down," I replied. I picked up the menu that had already been placed there when the restaurant had opened that morning.

"Well that's rather rude," he admonished.

"She'll live, if anything, we just made her job easier. It's not like their busy just yet anyways." He must have sensed that I knew what I was talking about because he only rolled his eyes and looked down at the menu in front of him as well. I admired the strangeness of the situation for only a second before opening my mouth once more. "So tell me Doc, where are you from and why have you got such a heavy brow?" I reached over and poked him on the forehead, right between his eyes.

He batted at my hand in a fake annoyance, "That's a bit personal don't you think?"

"Well we just met; anything I ask you is going to be personal," I argued.

At that point a server made her way over with two sets of silverware, she smiled at the two of us as she placed the sets down and pulled out a notepad and pen. "What can I do for you guys today?" She seemed cheery enough and I instantly took a liking to her once I saw that she was wearing a Supernatural necklace. The Doctor seemed to like her as well if the charming smile that broke across his face had anything to say about it. That's when I realized how much of a ginormous flirt he was.

"We need the biggest plate of chips you have," Doctor exclaimed.

"He means french-fries," I added absently as I had already returned to the menu.

The waitress laughed and added a note in her book, "How about drinks?"

"Two sweet teas, please," he added.

The waitress nodded, took our menus, and made her way back into the building to place their orders into the computer. I wasn't really bother by The Doctor ordering my drink for me, gestures like that normally made me feel like a person really knew me, but I was left wondering how he knew sweet tea was my favorite drink…if he even knew at all. Maybe he had just been taking a stab in the dark, one never really knew with the Doctor. He glanced over at me excitedly and placed his hands on the table, as if prepared to have an in depth conversation, and waited.

"What?" I asked curiously.

"What year is it?" he asked distractedly, all of sudden, as if the thought had just struck him.

"What?" I asked again with a hand raised and a look of confusion. "It's 2013, where've you been?"

"Oh, about, I've been traveling," he answered flippantly.

The waitress returned with our drinks just then and The Doctor sipped on his tea gratefully, it wasn't too hot out that day, but by the time the drink got to us there was already a fair amount of condensation gathering over the glass. I picked the pink umbrella out of my drink and twirled it in my fingers while the waitress sat down the large plate of french-fries as well as a plate filled with different condiments. I stuck the umbrella in the short, curly, mess of red hair that I had and reached for a fry.

"Is there anything else I can get you guys?" The waitress asked hopefully. The higher the bill the higher the tip. It was every server's goal to rake in as big of an order as possible.

"I think we're good for now, but we'll probably be doing dessert," I said. That seemed to do the trick and she smiled before turning away to help a couple who had just sat down three tables down from them.

The Doctor had already eaten a handful of fries in that time I waited until he had swallowed before asking, "So you're a time traveler?"

The Doctor looked up from beneath his lashes and I could sense his mood change, not to a secretive and weary mood, but more of a hopefully curious and somewhat guilty one. Such a strange combination. But then again, he was a very strange person, and he had done nothing but surprise me since we started talking.

"It could be possible," he responded in a clipped tone while he busied himself with covering half the fries with ketchup. "But why would you think so?"

"You've been traveling, you don't know what year it is, and you don't even know how a dollar bill works," I deadpanned. "Plus you're just weird, look at your ears," I pointed to my own.

"Oi, my ears are perfectly fine-".

"You didn't deny it," I pointed out.

"Of course not, why would I?" He asked in such a tone that I literally felt my IQ drop. His expression went from annoyed to excited in the blink of an eye. "Do you wanna see my ship?"

"No." the answer was immediate. I took a sip of my tea while The Doctor stared at me in blatant confusion.

"Well, why not?" He seemed determined now I noted vaguely. But for the first time that day he seemed actually one hundred percent interested in the conversation.

"Because I don't feel like being whisked away on some never land adventure by some over grown Peter Pan," I retorted.

"Well that's hardly fair of you. Who said anything about taking you on an adventure?" He scowled down at me, clearly growing annoyed.

"If there's one thing I know about people it is how to read them and you SCREAM 'Come with me on an adventure' with your leather jacket and your charming smile, oh yes, I know your type." I'll admit, I sounded like my mother, as much as I hate to say it. But I was enough of a slacker as it was and I knew how those meetings worked, I had seen enough science fiction and fantasy movies, and I didn't need to be running off on a grand adventure when my car payment was due in three days.

"My type?" he repeated. He leaned back and crossed his arms. "Well then, what's your type?" He questioned challengingly.

"The realistic kind," I said. My eyebrows crashed together in my own scowl.

"Oh that is rich, I know for a fact that you crave adventure."

"How's that?"

"You're a ginger and you have blue eyes, because you look at the stars, and you've heard the song." He babbled on with his nonsense and I just shook my head staring at him as if he were an idiot. He was gesturing wildly with his hands while he spoke.

"What are you talking about?" I exclaimed.

"My ship brought me here, to you, for a reason-".

"Yeah okay," I snorted.

"For a second you had me going, I thought you would be a grand person to travel with but I understand you now - you're a coward – you swagger around but when it comes down to it you're afraid to grow up."

I kind of got the hint then that there was more to this argument than what he was letting on because he honestly did not seem the type to start a heated fight with a stranger and to be this wound up about it. Not to mention that the last comment had come out of nowhere. I in all conscience felt that he was a much gentler person than this. So I leaned back in my seat and uncrossed my arms which I had unknowingly crossed in defense. I rested them on the arms of my chair and sighed. This was him venting, I realized.

"Aren't we all?"

The Doctor leaned forward and rested his elbows on the table and scrubbed a hand across his face. He looked up at me guiltily and all I could do was smile reassuringly. My weakness was eye contact, in a fight it's a guarantee that if you give me enough time to cool down and catch my eye when I'm trying avoid contact, my anger will completely deflate. I have no idea why… I didn't get it from either of my parents because my mother is stubborn as hell and my dad always stormed off when he was angry. Not the best couple those two.

"I'm in a very precarious point of my life right now, not quite an adult but not a child, and I don't think leaving now would be a good idea for me," I explained quietly. "And I know how it goes with adventures, they're grand and fun, but no one ever talks about what happens after them. You're life becomes boring as all get out and I'm bored enough as it is. You'll always wonder what it would be like to go on another and that feeling consumes you." The Doctor stared at me with a look of pity and I can only imagine how pathetic I appeared, I had started to fiddle with a silverware set and my voice had dropped to a mumble, the image of a child. A lot had change over the span of my life and I knew that at one point I would have been thrilled by the idea of an adventure. It had been the one thing I craved. But there was a cold fear that had blossomed in my heart as I grew, and it often rooted me to normalcy. To remain on the beaten path and to keep my head down.

"Well then, we can just go on another," The Doctor said pleadingly.

"And how many adventure have you been on, Doc?" I asked, watching as he grimaced at the name.

"Hundreds, thousands even," he boasted.

"And how old are you?" I shot back.

He fell silent and I sighed once again. I had a feeling I was hitting quite close to home if the look on his face was anything to go by. He leaned back and echoed my own sigh. We had clearly reached a stalemate. By some weird happenstance I seemed to have stumbled across some peculiar being intent on obtaining a companion to travel with him and bad luck on his part that I didn't feel like traveling. But I had a feeling there was more to it than that, he just seemed too deep and raw, something was consuming him and he was desperate for someone to latch onto. It didn't occur to me that I had an uncanny ability to read him, understand, and that there was an odd amount of familiarity I felt for him.

"My ship would not have brought me to you if it was not important," he began slowly, "I have shown up in this same year seven times now and out of those three times in this exact town." He pointed at the table to emphasize the importance of that fact and lifted his eyebrows. "Something about you is important."

"Maybe your ship thinks you deserve a break," I said with a shrug. "You've been running around so much, you're probably going on fumes, take a breather."

"I highly doubt that," he muttered and looked at me sadly. "Oh, just come with me, I can bring you back five minutes from now. It's no big deal." He pleaded with all he had.

"I don't think that's why your ship brought you here." I shook my head and leaned forward, "You seem so dark and gloomy, if you ask me, I think you just need someone who knows all your secrets."

"What good is a friend if they don't travel with you?" He rolled his eyes and looked out over the water once more.

"You can tell me anything you want to, Doctor," I began and just to reassure him I added, " I'm just one in 6 billion and I can promise you if I ever opened my mouth that no one would believe me." I leaned forward and watched he eyed me skeptically. "So, here's the deal, you can come to me whenever you need to talk, it doesn't matter where or when. I have no doubt that you can find a friend to keep you company on your adventures so the best I can offer you is my ear. You seem to have a lot troubling you and for whatever reason this bothers me. So tell me your story and after that we'll part ways but if you ever need to add another chapter you can feel free to find me."

The strange man stared at me blankly for a good amount of time before he smiled softly and chuckled, "That was certainly a long winded speech…but if there is anything I've learned through my travels it's that one person has an awful lot of power. Especially you humans."

"Yeah, well, you have a very prominent personality, I felt the need to outdo you," I answered truthfully. I looked down at the table and reached for a French fry. "Ok, how about this, I'm too lazy to even attempt to sell you out?"

He stared at me for a long time after that, his mind racing a million miles a minute and I could tell this went against his morals. Like he had never opened up to a person before but if he opened up to anyone then a complete stranger seemed to be the best option.

"Alright then," he paused and seemed to collect his thoughts, "I'll talk, but only because this is strictly professional. I'm not all that great at opening up to people that I am close to, I will admit that." He pointed at me and gave me one more look before speaking. I ignored how much that sentence hurt, as if he would forever remain a stranger, and nodded."Have you ever done something so horrible that you quite frankly wish you could end your life?" There was a slight smile, barely a crook of his lips, but it was dark. The question was laced with so much cynicism that I actually had to take a calming breath.

"Well, I once slept with my best friends ex, but I feel this topic is deeper than that," I responded as casually as I could.

The Doctor chuckled again and there was an amused look in his eyes before he sighed, took a look around the empty table, and returned his eyes to his hand on the table. "Let's say that there were two warring factions, and they had been fighting for centuries, a thousand years, and during that war many other people were harmed. It would go on for ages more." He fell silent and turned his eyes out to the water, deep in thought. "The only way to end the war was to destroy everything…" He lifted his hands and rubbed at his face again. It almost looked like he was trying to scrub the memories away. Clearly he was just giving the very basic plotline of his past and it was obvious that there was so much more to the story that he did not want to delve into, I respected that in a mature way.

"You're looking for reassurance? To be told that what you did was right?" I asked softly.

He looked over at me with drawn lips and a dark gleam in his eye. This had been haunting him for a long time. I took a sip of my tea and leaned back, directing my eyes out to the ocean. There was a heavy silence between us, I was thinking on how to respond and he was anxiously waiting for this small human's opinion. This was something massive and I was having difficulty putting myself into his shoes. But I tried.

It seemed like hours had passed before I sighed and glanced over him. He perked up from his depressed state, weary, and hoping to hear what I had to say.

"I'm assuming that when you say others were getting hurt that you mean whole other groups of people, like, whole other factions, worlds even…" I trailed off, waiting for his response. He nodded slowly and I returned my gaze to the water. "If this war had gone on for a thousand years, and other worlds were being dragged into it, and the only way to end it was to literally END it then I think it was the logical thing to do. If there was no end in sight and entire peoples were being destroyed then what else could a person do? I would sure as hell hate to be the guy who pulled the trigger, but I would understand his actions, and I would feel for him."

"But hunreds of thousands of people died," he argued. "Children were killed, wives, whole entire families…" he trailed off and I stared into his pleading eyes and I was overcome with the realization that he wanted me to be upset with him. He wanted a bad reaction, for someone to lash out at him, because there was no one else who could.

"Doctor, you don't deserve to be punished. You can go round and round arguing about all the people who died and how wrong it was but in the end what is done is done. Now it is up to you to make it worth it." I'm not gonna lie, I kind of grew to be a bit annoyed, I wished he could see that he did not need to punish himself. "It's a lot to take on, I'm sure, but don't let their sacrifice be for nothing. Spread the word. Stop others from making the same mistake. But for god's sake don't give in to the guilt, don't search for lectures and regret in others."

He snorted and looked down at the table for the hundredth time in that time span. "What is your name?" He spouted suddenly and looked up from under his brow.

"Emily Bright," I stated.

"Emily Bright, how did you obtain this ridiculous talent for cutting to the chase?" He gestured animatedly. "To take a complicated mess and straighten it with barely a thought?"

I stirred my sweet tea around, watching the ice twist about before replying "I'm a writer, it's part of the job."

There were a few moments of silence between us in which the Doctor watched a band set up on a small stage in front of the restaurant. I also happened to catch his eyes drifting over to a man who sat hunched over at a table not far from ours. He scrunched his eyebrows together in suspicion before returning his attention to me. "I always loved writers, especially you humans." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a strange little metal contraption and lifted it to his eyes before saying "But I think it's more than that, positive actually. Where did you get that ring?"

I looked down at the ring I had slid onto a chain around my neck, it had become much too small for me over the years and in an attempt to hang onto the childhood memory my mother had provided me with the gold chain. The ring was small and gold with a little shooting star engraved on it. "I found it by the lake by my house," I responded. I frowned, finding the memory blurry and it was hard to recall the exact details.

He only hummed and drifted in thought.

"Well, it was nice meeting you Emily Bright!" he practically shouted, breaking the comfortable silence that had fallen between us. He offered his hand and I hesitantly shook it while he stood. "I must be off, there's something strange going on over in London, well, there _was_."

"Alright then, Doctor, good luck." I chuckled, "and find yourself someone nice to travel with. It gets pretty boring on your own I would think." I took a second to take in the image of The Doctor, a strange and sad man who insisted on filling his life in adventures and I smirked, and realized the potential for an amazing tale, but I promised I wouldn't sell him out. I worried for him, I really did, but no matter how fragile he seemed, I felt that that in his deepest conscious that he was an amazingly strong person.

As an afterthought he added, "and watch out for that man over there, he smells a bit strange." He shoved his little contraption back into his pocket and gave me one last smile before swaggering off in a random direction.

And just like that he was gone.

And just like that the surreal event came to an abrupt end when I realized he had left me with the bill. It wasn't that bad, I was sure, but there went my money for the hookah lounge.

"That asshole."


End file.
